


OroMina - The Devil Wears Prada

by authorafterhours, goddamnitaisha



Category: Naruto
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fashion & Models, Blow Jobs, M/M, Masturbation, fashion - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-20
Updated: 2018-08-20
Packaged: 2019-06-23 23:31:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15617442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/authorafterhours/pseuds/authorafterhours, https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddamnitaisha/pseuds/goddamnitaisha
Summary: [Everything for Fashion] [modelling AU]This is not a film-adaption AU, more an 'inspired by' + NSFW element. CEO Orochimaru stops the fashion photoshoot and takes model Minato apart to encourage his sex appeal... by giving him a blowjob.





	OroMina - The Devil Wears Prada

**Author's Note:**

> This was written as tumblr roleplay but it's readable, as we are experienced writers.
> 
> Orochimaru by GoddamnitAisha  
> Minato by Authorafterhours

"Look at me like you want to seduce me and fuck me in the back room," said Orochimaru.

Minato was going to tell him how true it was. Dipping his head down as directed, his eyes were hooded thanks in part to the angle and the makeup in order to give a smouldering impression. His heated gaze was focused on Orochimaru, who stood beside the camera. His own arm was starting to go numb but he knew better than to move. That was a lesson he learned early on and had no desire to be reeducated. 

The change rippled over Minato like a time-lapse solar eclipse. Suddenly everything light and cute that made him grade B fashion model, turned darker.

“Yes, that’s better,” the photographer said.

Her eye for turning quality into high-quality was the reason why Orochimaru worked with her. Her approval mellowed out his own opinion. She was right. This was better indeed. He looked at the photos that instantly appeared on the laptop screen in the Photoshop Lightroom program.

The photographer's assistant, this woman specialised in Digital, ticked Orochimaru’s sleeve: look at this.

Much better. Maybe Minato could live up to that sex appeal. Orochimaru glanced between the model and the screen, and Minato looked good. He was pretty. He got the feeling of the campaign across. He had done his job. He crouched down. He checked the photographer’s angle, and it was the right one. The sexy effect appeared on screen. Orochimaru tried to be satisfied for a moment, and then he said: "Shauni. Don't shoot what it looks like, shoot what it feels like."

"I know my job, boss," the photographer Shauni sighed. It communicated,  _It's not me, it's the model. If you want a better picture, don't yell at me._

Minato was looking twenty centimeter’s to the left from Orochimaru’s face, but it was enough to make Orochimaru feel like their eyes were locking. And when he felt like that, and saw the blue eyes surrounded with black makeup like this, he became possessed. Something changed. Within him, a thousand years passed under water. When Minato blinked, Orochimaru felt like he was breaking through the surface. He gained air. He could breathe.

“Excellent, keep it up.” The photographer said.

But in that flash he had seen Minato’s transformative potential. In that gaze Orochimaru had seen a superhuman, not a man. Behind that flashy smile lay something incredibly ancient and forbidden. It was hungry. It was dangerous.

“Doing good..”

Now her approval irked him. He covered the camera lens with his hand just as the photographer pressed snap. All light-boxes in the room flashed brightest white. They blinded everyone. He stood up, robes dragging over the floor. “No,” he decided. “It’s not good enough.”

“I’m in the zone!” the photographer said. “The model is.”

“Orochimaru, look at the screen,” the photographer’s digital assistant said. She turned the screen to him. “This is amazing.”

“It’s good. It’ll sell, but it’s not amazing. Everybody, out. Take ten, no longer. I want you to be on your best.”

There was a mixed reaction in the room, annoyance with half, and the other half was relieved. Especially the girl holding the white board that blocked out shadows looked relieved to be able to lower it.

“Not you,” Orochimaru snapped at Minato. “Stay where you are. Everybody, yes, by all means move at a glacial pace. You know how waiting thrills me.”

The last six people speedwalked to the door. Each one of them was nameless, faceless.

“Close the door - Thank you.” He turned on his stilettos, focused back to Minato. He put one arm on his own hip. He lift his own chin. “Shauni is right: the photos are ‘good’. They will do. But they are not fantastic. I’ve seen something in you - a beast - that if you can bring it out, could launch your career as a supermodel.“

He wanted to touch Minato’s face but that would mess up the makeup powder. He resorted to brushing wrinkles out of Minato’s jacket.

"But can you do it on your own? I could help, I could launch your career. I abuse my power, that’s how I’ve come so far. I said, everything in life is about sex so I want to see your sex face. All you’ve given me is a sexy face. How far are you willing to go? Let me push you, Minato-dear.” Orochimaru opened his mouth and licked his tongue over his upper lip. This was sexual. Sex was about power.

From day one, Minato had learned that getting praise from Orochimaru was a rarity rather than the norm and even then, backhanded compliments were all that were offered. The man had standards that stretched to the stars and most couldn’t live up to them. Their arms just couldn’t reach and more often than not, Minato felt the same. But rather than take it personally, he just did his job to the best of his ability and noted that he couldn’t please everyone.

He just had to please certain people enough to continue working.

As the room drained of people, Minato didn’t move but he did let his eyes focus firmly on the ex-model. Once the door clicked shut, the silence trailed after the rest of the crew as the man began speaking. And Minato would have had to been a fool for not seeing the offer for what it was. But was he willing to fold and allow himself to be pushed in such a way? The short answer was yes. He had done worse out of necessity in the past and the bills were due. There were far worse things that kept him up at night than having sex with his boss.

This may even give him better dreams to look forward to.

His eyes were temporarily hypnotized by Orochimaru’s tongue before they refocused on him. His smile became more genuine as lust coated his lips like lipstick.

“I’d be honoured and absolutely _delighted_ to have your help.”

Orochimaru had expected flinching worry. He had expected a flushing red face and an stutter. This ready reply threw him off. He took the smallest step back, “oh?” hand digging deeper in his side. A photographer would find it funny that Orochimaru stepped back in modelling poses when surprised. 

Their eye contact held so many different feelings that the rest of the room seemed to blend away. It was only them, in this circle of light. The rest was darkness. Somewhere far-off, the air conditioning flared. And then CEO Orochimaru bit a winner smirk at him. He sank to one knee, then both. The floor tiles were cold under his knees. 

“Don’t touch your hair or face,” he said. “We’ve not got much time, so close your eyes and do your best.” He parted Minato’s jacket and unbuttoned his trousers. Men were easier than woman. He did not spend time on romance: it was already in Orochimaru’s mouth. 

His fingers curled into the material he sat on so he wouldn’t dare touch his hair or face, or worse, Orochimaru’s. He had no desire to see what kind of damage those nails could possibly do if he ruined the man’s appearance. He defied him in only one area. As his breath hitched, and his knuckles whitened with pressure, his eyes narrowed but didn’t close…they kept watch as the man set to work. Cobalt darkened to galaxy as his gaze began to haze with pleasure.

Orochimaru dominated him at the start. A sigh of breath, a touch of lip, and his tongue gave an embracing lick. It was eerie long just like the CEO's hands and neck and legs were unnaturally long. His mouth curled around Minato’s member, sucked it into a space of vacuum. 

The door’s unlocked. Does that excite you? It does to me, and makes me feel thrilled. Anyone could walk in, and see me on my knees. I hate kneeling, I dislike bowing down to anyone. Does my gender matter to you? Maybe you have a cute little girlfriend that doesn’t matter when you look down on me like this.

He licked over the length, and bobbed his head forth and back. He could smell the sex and sweat. He could taste the saltiness of skin. Does it arouse you that I’m your boss? Orochimaru felt a heat in his own groin and brought a hand down to contain it. He wanted Minato dizzy-drunk by a fireplace, fuck him on the carpet. Whether it would be consent or not wouldn’t matter with the right drug. He just wanted to plough into him, mess up the makeup, mess up the hair, two fingers in Minato’s mouth. He shouldn’t think of this, but this blond model’s gaze was unlocking these fantasies. He wanted _more_. 

A groan was strangled in Minato’s throat as he tried to keep quiet, to halt any reason for any of the others to become suspicious and start returning early just to see what was up. Despite that, he hardened further under Orochimaru’s carnal manipulations. His words were breathless and low, a growl threatened to curl the edge of his syllables.

“Silver tongued in more…ways than one,” he panted out. “My, aren’t you talented?” He moaned at a particular flick of the tongue. It was quite a few moments before he could speak because each time Orochimaru did, the blood rushed to his ears and to his length and he was rapidly running out of supply. His voice was rough like sandpaper. “Pity…you dislike kneeling. You look….hah…so ravishing there. Your gender…doesn’t matter to me. You look gorgeous regardless.” Minato was currently unattached to anyone, as his last relationship ended a few weeks prior. He bit back the urge to buck up, to fuck his mouth. The room was becoming warmer and his thoughts became almost drunk. He wasn’t the only one affected by the way he could see Orochimaru shifting.

Fuck, the man seemed to be one of many talents…already he was cresting on the edge.

“I’m close.”

Orochimaru kept looking up, _begged_ for the cum. His yellow-brown eyes were big, and his eyebrows drawn up. He was a model of a thousand faces and he let the cock slide out of his mouth. A thread of saliva connected the head with his outstretched tongue. This was Minato’s chance to spray it over Orochimaru. He kept his mouth open to receive. The boss would look so dirty. It would be the talk of four continents. This was the moment - Orochimaru still pleaded. 

He changed moods like a gunshot. Suddenly he was gloating. The smirk on his lips cut like a knife. He stood up. “Cover yourself. I’m going to call everyone back in.”

He should have known better, that sadistic tease. Minato surmised the man had an almost supernatural sense of timing and stopped right at the point just before there would have been no return. A guttural growl shook his chest as Orochimaru pulled away but he still readjusted his clothing. Just because Orochimaru got to see didn’t mean EVERYONE would. As he tried to chill the roaring blood and return to some semblance of calmness, the look he sent his boss was dark, almost primal and his voice more than anything showed just how affected he was.

“Such a pity. Next time, perhaps considering following through if you’re going to fuck with me? I’d be more than willing to make it worth your while.” His voice shook just a little, as he could still feel the other’s saliva wetting his length but he kept the tone low, purring, and a hint of frustration rippled across his syllables. By the time the others returned, he was at least presentable.

That voice - _fuck_. It felt like it had been spoken with lips to his ears and Minato’s hands in Orochimaru’s underwear. Minato should be the one turned on, not him. His breath hitched, and his ears and throat coloured. 

“Don’t calm yourself,” or all the treatment would be for nothing. He needed that predatory look on Minato’s face. It would look good on camera.

He opened the door and called the staff. 

Everyone zoomed back in. Break was over, and the way Orochimaru was barking orders meant that whateve had happened inside this room had strained him. Stessed boss = devil boss. Everyone was back to business in no-time.

Shauni gestured. “Chair, give me a chair!” An assistant came running and put the chair down. She stepped on it. She photographed him, adjusted the light, and photographed again. “I want a whiteboard for shadows on the right!”

In that moment between the orde and it being caried out, Orochimaru thought, _If you mast is even halfway by the time this is over, I haven’t done good enough._

“Look as if you want to fuck me in the back room,” Orochimaru repeated. “I want to see those galaxy eyes.”

“This is _unreal_ ,” the digital editor whispered ever so quietly. 

He swallowed and halted his earlier attempts at obtaining calmness. Minato paid little attention to his coworkers who ran around like beheaded chickens before some form of order was established and they were back where they were ten minutes ago. If any of them knew or at least guessed what happened in their absence, they knew better than to say a word at least within hearing distance of their boss. He stayed focused on Orochimaru’s presence even as he had to direct his gaze elsewhere for the sake of the photo.

His body was tightly coiled and there was a tenseness to it that hadn’t been present earlier, as if a predator was readying to pounce. Every shift or new pose he made was made with methodical care. At the orders given, Minato bit back a slightly frustrated growl but they were still easily followed. The idea of fucking him was more than appealing at this point, and fantasies of Orochimaru’s expression, of running fingers through his hair and gripping the strands tautly, among other unspeakable things fueled him.

Orochimaru said: “You _are_ a predator, your chakra is full of it… right now, channel everything you’ve got!”

“Amazing,” Shauni said, “Keep giving me that. Next pose.” 

“Yesss,” Orochimaru hissed as he kept his eyes on the screen. Photo after phone flashed by, almost as fast as a stop-motion film.

The entire room had gone quiet. The air was buzzing with the unresolved sexual desire. Everyone anticipated release. Everyone expected Minato to jump back to his happy light self any moment - but the longer it didn’t happen, the more it built up. And built. And built. 

Orochimaru wet his lips. He stretched out his hand and snapped his fingers without taking his eyes off Minato. “Shauni, stop-motion pictures. You, collect all water bottles. Makeup, take the panda eyes away. Styling, undress his upper body. Just trousers. I want his look _au natural_ and see if he still has it. Pour the water over him. Someone comb his hair back. Minato, keep looking at the camera. **Don’t blink or flinch.** You are _beautiful._ You are a predator, keep this up. Think of your reward.” 

_This will sell as a stop-motion commercial. No one will be able to look away._ Gods and Heavens _, you’re so beautiful._ And that’s when he fell in love.

He shuddered as water was dumped over him once his shirt was taken off, and water droplets began to trace the dips and lines of his form. Still, his gaze did not waver from the camera’s. Minato hoped Orochimaru kept that promise of a reward as it was the main source of what was keeping him going.

That and the fantasy of Orochimaru on his knees again.

Awful. Orochimaru was gritting his teeth and curled his toes in his shoes as he watched Minato move. Awful. 

_I told you not to close you eyes,_ he wanted to sneer, but he didn’t want to startle Minato as the second and third bottle of water were being emptied over his head. Everyone was in the zone. He shouldn’t interfere.

Still…

Minato shuddered, and that made Orochimaru think up of no less than five different scenarios where he would train Minato to obey orders. Bondage. Dominance. Fucking him, while this blond brat kept his face completely still - that was what he wanted. 

And as Minato continued to look at the camera, Orochimaru’s face gained a pink and then red colour. 

“Are the water bottles empty?” Shauni said, “step out of the shot. Minato, keep looking here. Yes. Done.” 

The staff all turned to Orochimaru for instructions, but Orochimaru just stared. Nothing happened. He didn’t even see them. It was just a tunnel-vision from him to dripping-wet-and-half-naked Minato. Droplets rolled off that beautiful body. He stared. _Someone that can keep up with my expectations…?_

Especially given the thoughts he was entertaining.

It was in the unexpected silence that he dared glance at Orochimaru and finally took notice of his blush, his stare. His throat constricted and he could feel a soft warmth creep up his neck. Quickly, he darted his gaze back to the camera.

Still, he couldn’t contain a flash of smug pride…after all, HE was the one responsible for the other’s speechless state.  

The camera flashed a last time, capturing that smirk, too. Then Shauni waited, but nothing interesting happened, and she lowered it. “Okay, that’s it for the shoot.” 

Orochimaru clapped his hands twice to get everyone’s attention. “Time to tidy things up. You know the schedule. Minato, come with me to the dressing room.” He gestured, walked. _Why do I feel nervous?_ He steeled his face, his shoulders. The sight of Minato’s bedroom eyes wouldn’t leave him. 

“…Sir?” He asked quietly. His tone was low, inquiring. Yet his lips held a soft quirk. “Are you alright?

Tch! He clenched his teeth, stared at the floor.  He had words ready, but when he saw Minato with the towel around his neck like some swimmer, they evaporated from his tongue. Minato was perfect - he was the line between male and female. He was airy and jumpy in a way that Orochimaru had never been able to channel. He could be dark and so seductive. And in that moment, Orochimaru was jealous of all Minato could become. The entire career path was open in front of him, things that Orochimaru had done and discarded but now wanted to do again. He didn’t know if he was jealous, or obsessive, or possessed. Maybe all three. He put his hands on his sides, and sighed to relief tension. “It worked.” 

“…You don’t sound so happy about it.” He uttered quietly. The passionate flames that had licked at his heels began to smoulder in the wake of this new scenario.  He walked forward until they were close enough to touch but he refrained from doing so…even if he wanted to brush his hair from his face. “I have done as you asked…have I disappointed you in some way?” He reached out as if to touch his face but let his hand fall to his side.

“Fu fu fu…” he chuckled behind his fist. He closed his eyes. “On the contrary. You did well. That is unique and… scary.” It had been a while since anyone had been able to wow the great Orochimaru of Oto. 

A darkness settled in his eyes as he looked at Minato. “I was sure you would ejaculate in your trousers in front of everyone. What an embaressment that would have been. You held out.”

“…I didn’t want to give you the satisfaction.” He dared to reach over and brush a few strands from his face. “Especially after you denied me mine.”

This was personal. And the touch made Orochimaru more alert than he’d like to admit. Dammit! What was this feeling?! He grabbed Minato’s wrist. He held it still. Then he said, closing his golden eyes: “I guess it can’t be helped. If you still want it, I will deliver a good job, too.” No one should be able to say that Orochimaru didn’t pay up. “Let’s make sure we’re both satisfied. Now, what did I promise you, aside from the supermodel career launch?”

“…” He didn’t pull away from the hold. “…I want what you are willing to give and I have never had reason to question your quality of work…no matter what you apply it to. So of course you would do a wonderful job. And…you promised a reward but didn’t expand on that or explain.” He wanted both to walk away from this satisfied.

 _What a good answer._ It was almost as if Minato was purposely trying to be perfect to appeal to Orochimaru’s tastes. He kissed the inside of Minato’s wrist. He left his mouth on the skin, traced a blue vein. “Lean against that table. Don’t be afraid to get your hands in my hair. I noticed your hesitation, but I like to be handled.” He let go of the wrist, and sank down on one knee, then two.  

The kiss made his pulse flutter against Orochimaru’s lips and he inhaled sharply, yet briefly. Doing as instructed, he leaned against the table and lifted his free hand to run through those silken locks. They were just as well-cared for and soft as they appeared. Once his trapped hand was released, it reached down to cup Orochimaru’s cheek, his thumb running over smooth skin.

Orochimaru unbuttoned the trousers, and the wet fabric did not slide through his hands as easily as he would like. “We’re not lovers,” he said, speaking more to himself than to Minato. He shouldn’t get that aroused again. He pushed the pants down to the floor. He touched hips and balls and kissed the sword. He opened his jaw wider and brought Minato all the way to the back of his tongue. Somewhere on that path he opened his legs to give his own groin room. He hollowed his back, and he sucked.

“…” Minato didn’t respond to his comment, unsure of how to take it. They didn’t know what they were, if anything, and if it continued they could label it later if necessary. His fingers wove themselves in his hair, their grip becoming slightly taut at Orochimaru’s ministrations. He gasped and bit his lip, colouring it to a rouge shade. His eyes had closed out of habit but they soon opened to gaze down at him. “You…are far too good at what you do.” It was amazing yet frustrating at times. Groaning, his legs grew tense as he refused his body’s orders to buck.

He was in so deep but he still didn’t want to risk hurting him.

Orochimaru pulled back to reply. He let the member slip out of his open mouth, but held it with one hand. 

“Of course,” he said. He licked over the side. He closed his eyes when he did so, as if he was intensely enjoying it. He could be in a commercial. “That’s why I’m the boss.”

He put his head on Minato’s thigh. He looked up, smiled. “ Don’t make your tension visible. Don’t bite your lip… or I’ll stop. Fold your tongue instead. Curl your toes.”

Now when he took in Minato, it was in earnest. Every touch to the sack or stem was to enhance the experience. Every swallow was to make him burst. But the CEO kept his eyes open, kept checking if Minato was behaving.

The cool air of the room coupled with the occasional brushes of Orochimaru’s warm exhales was enough to tense his shoulders. His lashes resembled wings with how often they threatened to flutter much like his pulse. His grip on his hair tightened and his breath caught at the new rules. Later he’d probably comment that rewards don’t usually have strings attached but he was hardly in a state of mind to complain.

Reluctantly, Minato released his lip and his toes curled to the point of nearly aching. Each touch, each caress sent a bolt down his spine, just as jarring as the last.

“Does that…” His features became pinched as he unsuccessfully held back a low groan. “…include sound?” Being the center of the other man’s attention…that brought on a whole slew of emotions, of sensations. And if it included noise…well, Minato wasn’t entirely sure just how well he could behave.

Orochimaru lift his hand and signalled the French OK, with thumb and pointer finger connected. _Permitted._

Someone could walk in on them… fuck, that possibility only make Orochimaru more aroused. (If he would actually like it if that happened, was entirely a different question.) So he did his best to break Minato before that would happen. Of course his neck began to hurt too soon. He put his own hands over Minato’s, pushed the fingers deeper into his black hair. _Take over. I can’t keep up the pace._ He looked forward to this bit most, where he wouldn’t have to focus on muscles but on Minato’s places to touch. Minato was a piano, and Orochimaru liked to play. His fingers went fast. He dipped his head in, moved faster, and faster -   _now._

Someone could walk in on them and no matter how nice the fantasy was, the reality would be far less appealing, at least to Minato. Even if he had been given the okay, he’d try to stay quiet for both their sakes. He wove his fingers further into his hair to get a better grip and when he felt the timing was right, his fingers curled just a little more and his hips bucked. He nearly choked on a rumbling moan because the moist, tight warmth around him felt _fan-fucking-tastic._

His movements were shallow stutters at first that grew in confidence as well as length. Hissed praises, which no doubt stroked the CEO’s ego were uttered, not that Minato could help himself.

It kept him from screaming. 

His world shook with every movement, but it was kind of being on a boat. Just stay upright. Move along. 

_Minato._ He put his free hand on his own groin. He traced the outline of his sex, pressed it tight. It sent a bolt of lust through him. Suddenly he felt like he had wings, and he threw himself onto that cock. It went down past his tongue, into his throat. Tears sprang into his eyes. Minato’s compliments and lewd gasps more than made up for it. 

Given how long he had been wound up, it was no surprise to Minato that he wouldn’t last long under this new wave. The question was would Orochimaru allow him the release of that tension? If he had his way he’d be able to watch his boss like this for far longer…but his body had its limits.

“…You really are too good,” was growled out more than said. “I’m getting close.” There was the risk that he’d be denied again by warning him but Minato always did his best to be courteous even during such sordid affairs.

Minato was hyper-focused on everything Orochimaru was doing, and the ex-model basked in the attention. He seemed to soak it up, and then shine. _Look at me,_ everything about him said. His mouth sucked, but his blurred eyes lost focus on Minato’s face. Instead, they became two black bows - a smile. 

He loved the attention. He loved the control. He loved the compliments. He wasn’t stopping. He was power-hungry. ~~Everything is about sex. Except sex, sex is about power~~. And if he could have Minato in this moment, the _Do it again! Do is better! Show me more! Again! Do it again. Again!_ -terrorizing CEO would for once be **satisfied**. 

_I want you~_ He hummed the words in his mouth. 

Later, when he was more clear-headed, Minato may take note of how Orochimaru got off on being the center of attention, which wasn’t that surprising given what he knew of him. The man’s presence _commanded_ whatever room he walked in and Minato could only marvel and only hope to have that level of confidence one day.

It was just a pity there were no cameras around because both men looked nothing short of glorious.

With a final thrust, his features knitted with earth-shattering pleasure. 

He disliked the taste of semen, but he would rather eat his left shoe than let his makeup be ruined. Minato hadn’t earned the privilege to make him messy. So his tongue pressed against the head as he gulped. The slimy substance went down. The thrill remained. Yes! This was it! Minato was trembling under his fingertips, his face was a gorgeous expression, his beautiful body was all focused on Orochimaru. 

And he was a sadist, and milked him more. His fingernails dug into Minato’s bare thighs to hold him in place. A tear ran over Orochimaru’s cheek but it was fine because his makeup was waterproof. This was so satisfying. 

When he let the member slip away, it was flat. A thread connected it to his lips. He wiped his mouth with the inside of his hand. He grinned. He ran his tongue over his broad mouth. He stood up.

Minato was left scrambling for air as his vision threatened to blur into a sort of hazy darkness found in mixed paints. His body ached from the held tension but little of his makeup had been marred. Only what was on his lips had been messed up.

How the hell Orochimaru looked as poised and as perfect as always was mind-boggling and if Minato were honest with himself, a little envy-inducing. He was the poster boy for the cat that caught the canary. Panting, he managed to gather the shattered pieces of himself enough that by the time Orochimaru stood, he dared to reach out and palm his length through the material of his clothes, intending on reciprocating. 

Orochimaru inhaled sharply. He took a small step back. That one touch made him shiver so much he had to sling one arm around Minato’s neck to stay upright. He clung to him. Desperate. Submissive. He was hard. The boner was uncomfortable. And then -  

Then he took control. He slapped his semen-covered hand palm on the back of Minato’s wrist. The sound was wet. He pulled the hand out. He extended their arms horizontally. He placed his lips at Minato’s ear. “Please. That’s only for the best. I don’t submit to just anyone.” Minato was just a Grade B pretty face and the photos hadn’t even been published yet. If Orochimaru let his desires run away with him, it would give drama later. “Are you OK?”

The slap couldn’t have been louder to Minato if Orochimaru had it occur next to a microphone. Distance was enforced and it was his third whispered sentence that pieced it all together in his muddled mind, mucked with confusion and a soft yet piercing sting of hurt. 

He wasn’t deemed good enough to touch him.

Hurt, anger, all of it flared hot in his chest but despite what anyone thought, he was a good enough model to have a good poker face. His expression shifted into a blank, empty slate as the last vestiges of pleasure drained away from his veins. Standing up, he pulled away and grabbed a few tissues from the nearby box to clean himself up. At least until he could go home and scrub myself clean.

“I’m fine, thank you. I enjoyed our time together…you methods proved to be quite effective and I look forward to the results of the shoot.” His tone was methodical, detached.

Orochimaru let him go. He raised his eyebrows a little. _That expression is a shut-and-lock_ , like a maximum security prison. 

He stayed still for a moment. Then he inhaled, exhaled. His messy black hair fell over his face. For some reason, he felt like he was making a mistake. He didn’t want to hurt Minato. He felt pity. “Yes. I’m glad to see you’re taking this professionally.” 

At his words, Minato turned and couldn’t quite quench a baleful glare that held the power and longevity of fireworks and the ashy remains froze into frosted shards. It was there, fierce, fiery before it died in a frigid descent. His smile was far too photo ready, courteous yet soulless. He understood… but that didn’t stop from hurting.

“Indeed. We must remain professional, doubtless what it’d do to your reputation should it come to light you sullied yourself on someone like me.” His tone was quiet, almost robotic as if stating a simple fact. He readjusted his clothes into something presentable. He turned and looked at him over his shoulder. “Please take care of yourself and clean up. I will see that you are not disturbed until you are ready. Good night.” The door snapped shut behind him.

Orochimaru stared at closed door. It trembled in the lock. The sound of it echoed in his ears, as well as Minato’s words. _Sullied yourself ._

 _I sullied myself?_ He shook his head. “Idiot... It’s not for me. It’s for _you_ that I’m careful.”

He looked at his hand, and remembered Minato’s face with galaxy eyes. 

The next moment his trousers were on the floor and he was violently masturbating. That blond bastard’s semen was still warm on his handpalm. Jacking off should not be this lewd. 

He grabbed the table’s edge so fast that one of nails broke, then a second. He moved his hand up and down faster, came. He tightened and trembled. The squirts of rain his cock produced shot over the table a record distance. _Fuck._ He slammed his fist on the table. _Damn that prettyboy. Damn him._ Now Orochimaru wanted him even more!

He cleanded himself up. He pulled his clothes on. He fixed his hair.  He checked himself in the mirror to see if he was completely ready, and he saw his own angry red face. As soon as he would get to his office, he would masturbate again. But work needed to be done first. 

He paced out of the room. “Ssshauni! Get me those pictures!”

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment with a compliment!


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